


Life is a Fear

by inRemote



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Murder, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29364672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inRemote/pseuds/inRemote
Summary: In a boarding school for the wealthy and powerful, Bernadetta Varley is a lone sheep among a pack of wolves.Edelgard takes it upon herself to save someone, no matter the cost.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30
Collections: The Three Houses AU Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the Three Houses AU Bang. Featuring artwork by Madocactus.
> 
> Content warnings for visceral verbal bullying and mentions of previous domestic abuse. Please take care!

Bernadetta liked to watch anime.

The thing about anime was that the vast majority of them were about high school life. Some of them were romances that seemed inevitable the second the characters were introduced. Some of them were about plucky music clubs succeeding against the odds. Some of them were about inquisitive youths seeking the unlikely mysteries that lay within the concrete of their school.

But there was one thing that unified them; the concept of making memories. That handful of years was a canvas onto which their protagonists would paint experiences; ones that would last forever in their hearts. Love, success, friendship. A window of opportunity to become beautiful, if for a fleeting moment.

Bernadetta knew it was all very far fetched. But Bernadetta liked these fictional imaginings of a high school life worth living and worth remembering. Bernadetta liked them because they presented the possibility that somewhere in the world, someone was enjoying their time at high school.

Bernadetta was not making memories. Bernadetta was not falling in love, slowly but irrevocably, with a rival she felt an undeniable connection with. Bernadetta was not a pivotal and irreplaceable member of a dance troupe. Bernadetta was not investigating the ghosts of histories left behind by students from a generation earlier.

Bernadetta was not enjoying her time at high school.

This was a boarding school for the elite. This was a school where the children of the wealthy and powerful were sent to stay out of sight until they were useful to their parents. This was where the next generation of the elite got their diploma that marked them as being part of the elite, thus ensuring that they went on to occupy the jobs of the elite and the houses of the elite.

Everyone here knew they were destined for greatness. It was their birthright, and they had been taught to expect it. They were, after all, the great women of history. It was a mentality that required that lesser people exist for the sake of contrast. And that’s where Bernie came in.

Her father might have been a Count, but Bernadetta had not been taught to expect those things. Her father had a very particular image of what it was to be ladylike, and he had instilled this philosophy in her since she had taken her first steps. But Bernadetta was not good at being ladylike. She was not good at being delicate, smiling politely, knowing when to be heard and when not to be heard. And so her father had decided that it was better for her to not be heard at all.

She was still sent to this school. Her father had told her that seeing what was expected of her in her peers and classmates would inspire her, provide an example of what she had failed to learn. And the difference was abundantly clear, certainly. To her, and to her classmates. And they quickly saw the utility in Bernadetta. There was no more reliable source of self-affirmation than comparing oneself to the runt. To the failure. She was the perfect example of what they were not, and why they were better.

And so it had gone today, as it had every other day. Bernadetta was late to class, again. It wasn’t that she had slept in - she’d be lucky to sleep long enough to manage that. But leaving for class on time meant running into the other girls before the bell. Bernadetta wasn’t a complete idiot; she was very good at minimising the amount of time she was available for bullying, where possible. So she started leaving her room with just enough time to get to class as the bell rang. It should have been perfect.

Only, Bernadetta wasn’t perfect. Bernadetta didn’t remember things. Sometimes it was a book, sometimes it was her tie. Sometimes it was her shoes. But having to double back to her room to avoid being mercilessly mocked for her forgetfulness wasn’t something her just-in-time schedule allowed. Still. Better to be late than forgetful.

The reactions were different, depending on the class. Their registration teacher was lenient, merely sighing and giving her the bare minimum of reprimanding required. Enough to get a few sneers and giggles, but without any real barb. So she didn’t mind being late. But if she forgot materials for, say, English, she would be the Problem Child again. She would be standing outside in the corridor again. She would still be there when the class piled out, whispering awful things to her while she waited for a second round of yelling.

It was a matter of harm reduction. Failure was inevitable, but it was better to fail in the least mortifying way. The bullying was so much worse when she was visible, noticeable. So she kept to the nooks and crannies where she could. Avoided crowds. Triangulated the most lonely seat in the cafeteria, accounting for proximity to the most virulent bullies. Out of sight, out of mind. And, when class was over, she retreated to her dorm room like it was the last boat out of Dunkirk. She knew which corridors to take, at which time, when the crowds had passed or had not yet arrived. Her grades may have been failing, but she had studied the floor plan and traffic flow of the school building like a professional.

But even a professional couldn’t account for all variables.

And so it was that she did not make it to the end of the connecting corridor between the Languages department and the Home Economics annex before a loathsome voice called out behind her.

“Varley!”

She really should have kept going. Maintaining a distance would result in minimal abuse before she reached the safety of the dorms. But she froze, because she was afraid. Bernadetta was always afraid. And fear was what controlled her. So she answered her summons and looked over her shoulder obediently towards her tormentors.

She didn’t know their names, most of the time. That would require paying attention to the outside world, and during registration, Bernadetta knew she had until the last name on the register to simply pretend she wasn’t there. The bully at the head of this particular pack was a more recent foe, and a particularly vicious one. Someone who had spent their first year in a similar situation to Bernadetta, outcast until she had corralled a group of her own and decided to start kicking down.

Bernadetta didn’t even particularly blame her, as the gang descended down the corridor towards her. When you were near the bottom of the pecking order, there was a desperation to climb up, or at the very least make sure someone was beneath you.. Maybe Bernadetta would have done the same, if she could have. But she couldn’t. All of her loathing was directed firmly inwards.

“Running off to watch your weird Chinese porn, Varley? You fuckin’ freak.”

Bernadetta regretted ever trying to make a connection with this person. _Have you heard of anime?_ What had she even been thinking? She stared at the ground like it would turn to quicksand if only she could focus.

“Maybe I’ll tell fuckin’ Flanny that you’ve got a huge stash of deviant shit in your dorm. Imagine him tellin’ all your teachers you’re a manky little weirdo. Showin’ them all your sad wee cartoons you draw.”

Most bullying was just a matter of disconnecting until it was done. The specific words didn’t really matter, it was all mostly the same. Sometimes they’d hit her, but she didn’t react. Like they could be as bad as her father.

But this time, a primal fear rose in her gut. What if they told Mr. Flanagan? What if they took away her only solace? What if people saw the drawings she’d done?

“But it’s _not_ porn!” she blurted out. “Please don’t tell-”

Her objections drowned in the laughter of hyenas. Her words were repeated back to her in a grotesque imitation of her voice. “I bet you’ve got some disgusting shite in your bag right now, you wee pervert, let’s take a look!”

The alpha reached out towards her bag. She twisted away, but a pair of hands grabbed her, held her in place. Her sketchpad was in there. Why had she brought it with her? Oh God-

“ _Just what do you think you’re doing?_ ”

Every head turned towards the voice as it cut through them like a knife. It was not the voice of a teacher, but of something much worse. Bernadetta was released as the gang scrambled to attention.

Bernadetta stared, frozen to the spot, as prefect and crown princess Edelgard Hresvelg marched towards them like fury given form.


	2. Chapter 2

“I will ask you again. What are you doing to Bernadetta?”

Edelgard didn’t need to raise her voice. There was so much confidence, so much authority, that it carried the promise of consequence at any volume. The twin threat of being a prefect and a member of the royal family only lent more weight to her words. The gang was scrambling for excuses, knowing that the princess would not give them time to corroborate their stories.

The alpha bully took her shot. “Princess Edelgard, this girl - she’s got porn in her bag, we were going to take it to-”

Edelgard cut through her clumsy words instantly. “Then you should report your suspicions to the faculty, along with any evidence you have to support your accusation. It is not the place of students to perform their own body searches. Especially not by assaulting a fellow student.”

“But Edelgard, we didn’t-”

“I know what I saw. I’d drag you to the head’s office myself but I have pressing matters to attend to. You will leave Bernadetta alone or I will make sure I find the time. Am I clear?”

Mumbled assent.

“Good. You may return to your rooms.”

The assembled group turned to leave, only to be stopped by one final demand. “Not you, Bernadetta. I need to have a word with you.”

Bernadetta stopped in her tracks. The gang shot her smirks as they passed. You’re in trouble now. She turned, terrified, to face Edelgard. A deer in the headlights. Edelgard wasn’t looking at her, staring after the retreating girls until they were out of sight.

The second Edelgard turned her gaze back to Bernadetta, she broke. “I-I-I don’t have any p-p-porn!”

Edelgard sighed. “I know, Bernadetta. I know what bullying looks like when I see it.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Edelgard was staring at her. Fierce eyes burned right through her, like molten silver. She couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or pity. She couldn’t hold that gaze for even a second. The floor was suddenly fascinating to her again.

“This has been happening more frequently of late, hasn’t it?”

She flinched. Of course Edelgard was annoyed. Every time they met, it was Edelgard pulling her out of some situation or another. She was a pest, a burden. “I’m sorry.” she managed. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“No, Bernadetta. I am worried about you.”

A hand brushed her shoulder. Blind panic shot through her like lightning, radiating from the point of contact and igniting her limbs. _This is when the pain starts._ She flailed, knocking the offending hand away, desperate to just _get away_.

When she blinked, she was pressed up flat against the wall behind her, gasping for breath, curled in on herself like a prey animal. Edelgard’s hand stood still in the air, shock written across her normally stoic face.

“Bernadetta, I am so sorry-”

She couldn’t hear this. She ran. She ran as fast as she possibly could, away from whatever that was, away from a human being that might care, away from anyone who could possibly perceive her. Of course Edelgard was trying to be nice. Of course Bernie fucked it up. Of course she was so broken and awful that she would hurt the only person who bothered to protect her.

By the time she had stopped running, she was face-down in her bed. She must have slammed the door and discarded her bag at some point. Her shoes were still on. The pillow was dampening beneath her. Sleep would come soon, maybe. And then she would wake up tonight and watch her anime again, and forget.


	3. Chapter 3

Bernadetta had hoped to remain in this pattern forever. Awful, but manageable. It required no further input from her beyond endurance, and she could manage that much as long as nobody asked anything else from her. It was easy to not think of the relentless march of time on a day-to-day basis. The number only went up by one when she watched the day roll over on the glare of her phone screen, harsh against the darkness.

But days turn to weeks turn to months when you aren’t looking. And those little marks on the calendar that said “EXAM” advanced without remorse. Her classmates were no doubt studying. People with no problems found plenty of time for those kinds of things. Unfortunately, Bernadetta’s hierarchy of needs barely had a foundation, nevermind all those tiers above like “studying”, “social life” and “eating healthy food” that seemed so far out of reach.

She thought she might make an effort this time. It would give her something to focus on. Maybe the barbs of daily life would hurt less if she was moving towards something tangible. Fuck - maybe she’d actually feel proud of herself if she accomplished something. Maybe her father would be proud of her. Maybe Edelgard would be proud of her.

Six weeks until exams started. Better late than never.

Her earliest attempts bore little fruit. The comfort of her own dormitory room as safe and familiar, but too familiar. No matter how her conscious mind fumed and hurled mean words at her, her subconscious mind saw a laptop and knew that there were games and movies on the laptop and that playing those games and watching those movies was far more appealing than reading textbooks and past papers. Bernadetta was not the sort of person who had the willpower to ignore that. Or any willpower at all, really.

So she took a risk. She went to study in the library.

This should have been fine. She was in the silent study section. Nobody was technically allowed to talk to her. And, divorced from distraction, she actually made some progress. Her mind still wandered - in the absence of a screen, her imagination found itself empowered, and there were always original characters to draw. But apart from the occasional doodle in her textbooks, she was doing quite well.

She almost lasted a whole school week of this new regimen before her luck realised what was going on and decided to rectify this anomaly. A note slipped onto the table next to her. She didn’t even notice it was there immediately until she turned the page and her eyes drifted back to the top left of the page, and the note moved into her peripheral vision. Confused, she reached over and opened it.

got punnys bcause ur a grass  
see if ur still feelin smart when u get back to ur cave  
tell princess and ur internet history is goin viral  
ur mine now cunt

Bernadetta had known fear before. She was deeply, intimately familiar with it. This was the same kind of fear she had felt when Edelgard touched her - the fear of violation. Her textbook was crushed into her bag, her stationery forgotten behind her. She fled the library, heedless of the chastising voice of the librarian as she thundered through the door.

Her dormitory room was unlocked. That couldn’t be. It was the one thing she never forgot. This was the nightmare scenario, and she would never have let it happen. But it happened. She pushed the door open and stumbled in.

The room hadn’t been defaced. That would have been too incriminating, perhaps. But her worst fears were confirmed all the same. The glaring absence on her desk where her laptop should be. It was gone.

It wasn’t about the material value of the laptop. It could be replaced. But she had poured too much of herself into that laptop. Too many personal thoughts and too many salacious Google searches. Too much, too intimate. Too humiliating in the wrong hands. This should have been impossible. Wasn’t this the one place where nobody could touch her? But they had. And now she was so, so vulnerable.

Bernadetta did not leave her room for anything but classes after that. Every second she spent away was a possibility that someone might break in again. She did not return to the library. And while the laptop was no longer a distraction, that no longer mattered. Her brief dream of achievement was gone. So she sat on her bed, stared at her phone, and wished each day away.


	4. Chapter 4

Bernadetta did not report the theft of her laptop, not to the faculty and not to Edelgard. Moreover, now that she knew Edelgard’s intervention had led to this escalation, she started to consciously avoid Edelgard. She couldn’t be a burden to Edelgard. She was a problem that could not be solved, and it wouldn’t be fair to let Edelgard try.

Which is what she told herself. It was selfless, noble even. But she knew full well that it was self-preservation. If she let Edelgard see her, if she let Edelgard even suspect that something was still wrong, that would be it. Her shame would be unpackaged and displayed to the world like a circus attraction. She wanted to be invisible, and she would never be invisible again after that. She couldn’t let that happen.

Her bullies grew bold in this knowledge, and the little time she spent outside of her room were saturated with reminders of her vulnerability. Things were stolen from Bernadetta’s desk right in front of her eyes, safe in the knowledge she would not raise a voice in protest, and she would have to grit her teeth and stare at the ground and say “I don’t know, Miss.” when asked how she had lost her handouts for three days running. Tacks on her chair were an outdated trope, but even when she noticed them in time, a sharp glare from her tormentor and a terse “sit down” from her teacher were her hammer and anvil. And so she sat, and didn’t make a noise.

It was in the changing rooms after gym that Bernadetta learnt true hopelessness. She cried out as a deodorant can crashed against her head. It rolled to the floor, and she looked up at the expectant face that had thrown it.

“Give it back.”

She blinked.

“Give me back the fucking can.”

So she did. She leaned down, and picked up the can, and gave it back to its owner. She turned around, returned to her bench, and it hit her in the head again.

It was in this frame of mind, as a coerced but active participant in her own torment, that she sat her exams. She couldn’t pass these. She couldn’t possibly. What little she had absorbed over the school year faded away under a cacophony of her own voice telling her how fucking useless she was. Each exam was a two hour period of staring at a void in front of her where her answers should have been. Staring at the very sudden, very imminent reality in front of her that she was absolutely fucked. It was no longer an abstract on the horizon. She was failing in that very moment. She felt sick. And she went home and threw up and then repeated the process the next day for Maths.

It was only after the last exam that she realised she would have gladly accepted all the shame and humiliation in the world if it would have let her study.

It was too late, of course. The dull, all-encompassing despair at the pit of her soul told her that. But even if it was useless, she couldn’t endure this anymore. So for the first time, she ran towards someone instead of away from them.

She was beginning to overthink herself into running away again when the figure of Edelgard Hresvelg discovered her, sitting in a near-perfect ball in front of the princess’ dorm room. She looked up, and saw confusion quickly give way to concern in those wonderful lilac eyes. She was so far gone that she didn’t even think to look away.

“Bernadetta. Please, come inside.” No questions were asked. Bernadetta stood clumsily to the side of the door as Edelgard unlocked it, and stared stupidly when the princess did not immediately enter.

Edelgard indicated with her hand in a graceful motion. “After you, please.”

Oh. Bernadetta didn’t have it in her to argue. She stumbled inside, making it to the centre of the room before coming to a halt, staring vacantly at the wall. Edelgard’s room seemed sparse. She didn’t really take any of it in.

Edelgard kept a respectful distance as she circled around to enter Bernadetta’s field of view. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, Bernadetta. I was so-” She paused, as if reconsidering her words. A voice in the back of Bernadetta’s mind marvelled that even Edelgard wasn’t always so certain. “I had begun to worry. But my duties keep me so busy and I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Her voice had softened to a pitch Bernadetta would have assumed impossible for the crown princess. Edelgard moved as though to take a step forward, before thinking better of it.

“Please, Bernadetta. Talk to me. Not from afar. Let me be your friend.”

The word ‘friend’ brought all the suppressed pain she had accumulated into terrible focus. The dam of indifference finally broke, and so did she. She stood there, and cried. She cried and she cried and she cried for all the years she had not allowed herself this. It was a deep, desperate, hysterical noise that tore itself out of her throat. She could not even begin to find words nor vocalise them.

Edelgard hesitated in the face of this onslaught of despair. But then she asked something that Bernadetta had never been asked before.

“May I hold you?”

Bernadetta’s response was to fling herself at Edelgard, fingers grasping, clawing at the front of Edelgard’s uniform and all her misery and hope leaking out of her into the fabric of Edelgard’s shoulder. Slowly, calculated, as if she might break her, Edelgard’s arms encircled her, pausing once as they brushed gently against Bernadetta’s back. When Bernadetta did not pull away, those arms, those strong firm arms, pulled her in and crushed her against the warmth of the human being in front of her, holding her tight. It was not the tightness of a harmful intent. It was the tightness of safety. Anchored in place at last, Bernadetta scoured herself of everything she had amassed.


	5. Chapter 5

Bernadetta didn’t know how long she cried for, but it must have been some time, because by the time her eyes ran dry and her throat burned, Edelgard had moved them to sit on her bed. She would’ve felt mortified by this intimacy, but she was simply too exhausted. Edelgard hadn’t said a word the whole time. She’d just kept her arms around Bernadetta, risking small, soothing motions every now and then.

For a brief while after the sobs had died away, Bernadetta allowed herself to bask in the comfort of the embrace. But that was unfair - she was taking advantage. And something had to fill the silence. She pulled away.

“I’m sorry.”

Edelgard shook her head gently. “Bernadetta, you mustn't. You have nothing to apologise for. I invited you in of my own accord, and I embraced you of my own accord. I want to…” she paused again, as she had before. Bernadetta had never seen Edelgard unsure of her words, and today she’d seen it twice. “I want to help you, Bernadetta. I’d like it if you let me.”

It was almost funny to Bernadetta that this feeling was so alien that it inspired panic in her. Why was Edelgard Hresvelg being nice to her? Why did Edelgard Hresvelg care about her?

She vocalised these questions without meaning to. Edelgard frowned, but was not angry.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“It’s always been like this,” Bernadetta explained, “from the start. We’ve never had a conversation but you keep looking out for me. I’ve never done anything for you in return. I’ve never been nice to you. I’ve never helped you. I can’t do anything for you.”

“And why would you need to?” Edelgard’s fire had returned to her eyes, that lilac flame that Bernadetta wished would burn her away. “I do not care what these imbeciles have taught you. Measures of ‘worth’ and ‘value’. People as commodities, to be weighed and reduced to their utility. It’s disgusting. I hate it, Bernadetta, truly, for what it has done to you.”

Her voice lowered again, confident but tender. “I wish I had reached out to you sooner, Bernadetta. I wish I had not waited until you had come to me.”

Bernadetta sunk her head back into Edelgard’s shoulder, turning side to side against the damp uniform. “I didn’t let you. I was scared. They, they took something from me. Said they would show everyone if I told you.”

Edelgard’s firm muscles turned taut against her. Bernadetta nearly recoiled. “What did they take from you, Bernadetta?”

“My laptop.”

“But why not report it?”

Bernadetta burned with shame. She couldn’t tell Princess Edelgard, of all people, what was on it. The shame of being known. “...Nothing.”

“Bern…” The abbreviation of her name burned through her senses gently, warming them, loosening tension. “I will not judge you. Whatever you’ve taken an interest in is nothing to be ashamed of. These are curious years of our lives.”

Bernadetta responded by squeezing her hands tighter into Edelgard’s arms, hoping that it would convey something.

“They have no right to do this. I understand that you are afraid of retaliation, Bernadetta, but I am capable of being far more discreet than you might imagine. I promise you, on my honor as a Hresvelg, I will return your belongings and not a soul will invade your privacy. This ends now.”

Bernadetta could almost believe her. It mattered little now, anyway. The damage was done, and her laptop could not save her grades. But it was nice to have someone on her side. Someone strong enough that she could feel safe, even for a little while.

“Bernadetta…” Edelgard’s voice seemed suddenly cautious, tender. It was then Bernadetta realised that Edelgard’s hand had kept returning to the same spot on her back. She had found a scar.

“When I touched your shoulder before, Bernadetta… Who did that to you?”

She knew. Somehow, Edelgard _knew_.

Bernadetta couldn’t stop her confession. “My father.”

A silence.

“It was my uncle.” came the reply.

They both cried for a while.

* * *

The evening dragged on, and they talked. They talked about nothing at all, just pleasant and meaningless chatter. Edelgard said she loved when she could do this. “The joys of idling”, she called it. Bernadetta told her that it was funny, because she spent all her time idling but there was no joy in it. She’d laughed, but Edelgard had fixed her with a look. Like she refused pity, and instead opted to be angry on Bernadetta’s behalf. It stirred something in Bernadetta’s stomach that she did not want to address.

But curfew came, and Bernadetta had to leave. What had become a sanctuary over the course of the past hours was left behind her with a wave and an awkward goodbye.

“Visit again.” Edelgard had told her, with a warm smile that brought that weird feeling back in Bernadetta’s gut. “Or I shall visit you. I will not accept anything less.”

So she had that to look forward to, at least. She slept soundly that night, for the first time in a long time. Maybe she could let hope seep back into her life at last. It was always darkest before the dawn, and all that.

And it was nice, for the two weeks before results. People left her alone. Edelgard _didn’t_ leave her alone. Bernadetta felt unspeakably guilty about the amount of time Edelgard was taking out of her schedule to spend time with her, but her weak objections fell against Edelgard’s firm rebuttals.

“I am here by my own choice, Bernadetta. If my other activities suffer as a result, then that is my own responsibility to bear.”

And eventually Bernadetta just let it happen. It was surreal. She was having a nice time in school. Granted, they didn’t have classes until the next semester, and Edelgard would surely be busier when they began, but perhaps, with this newfound freedom, she could begin to put her life back together.

Her results came. They reflected what she’d done, certainly. Which had been absolutely nothing. The next day she received a summons to the headmaster’s office, where he unceremoniously informed her that her father was withdrawing her from the school.


	6. Chapter 6

It was much too late that Edelgard had discovered what the consequences of Bernadetta’s troubles had been for her exams. If only she’d acted sooner, maybe Bernadetta could have made passing grades. But it did not matter. Edelgard was involved now. On the day of the results being posted, she had told a near-catatonic Bernadetta that she would intervene on her behalf. When she, Edelgard Hresvelg, crown princess, prefect, head of her year, took Bernadetta personally under her wing, the faculty would understand the circumstances. The teachers respected and trusted her. She could stop Bernadetta falling through the cracks.

But Bernadetta wasn’t there to meet her the next day. Or the day after that. Edelgard had wanted them to speak to the headmaster together, to plead her case together. But Bernadetta would not respond even when Edelgard called for her outside of her door. Something was wrong, and she wasn’t going to let herself wait too long again.

Three days after results had been posted, Edelgard marched to the headmaster’s office alone and requested a meeting. She was not kept waiting.

“Mr. Flanagan,” she began, “I must talk to you about Bernadetta Varley. It is of great urgency.”

“Yes,” came the tired, strained tones of a man who was far too used to having demands made of him, “the Varley girl. It is a terrible shame, her delinquency. She showed such promise.”

What on earth was he talking about? “Mr. Flanagan, Bernadetta is not a delinquent, she is a victim! I came here to explain I plan to personally take responsibility for her studies.” She paused then, for a moment, and a dull, distant horror began to call to her. “What do you mean, ‘showed’?”

The headmaster sighed deeply, leaning forward on his desk to support the weight of his apathy. “I am telling you this only because you are the head of year, and I expect you to keep this to yourself. Her father has withdrawn her from the school. He believes her grades are so poor that homeschooling will be preferable, going forward.”

An involuntary gasp of horror left Edelgard’s lips. The implications came rushing in, a hurricane of sick portents in her brain.

“But sir! Bernadetta has shown marked improvement in the two weeks I have tutored her for! I can support her - if only you’ll let me!”

The headmaster’s response came back terse. “Ms. Hresvelg, I will remind you that you are just a student here. You are not one of our teachers, nor do you have special privileges. Mr. Varley has decided to withdraw Bernadetta, and neither you nor I can intervene.”

“But- but he’ll-!”

“I will _not_ discuss the matter with you any further, Ms. Hresvelg. I must attend to other pressing matters. Please see yourself out.”

Edelgard was dumbstruck. This _couldn’t_ be happening. She’d just managed to work up the courage to reach out to Bernadetta, and yet she’d been too late. And now Bernadetta would be taken away. Away from Edelgard. Away to somewhere Edelgard could not keep her safe.

She thought of the mark on Bernadetta’s back. She thought of the way she flinched so violently when Edelgard had first touched her. No. It was not that this couldn’t be happening. It was that she would not _let_ it happen. What use was all her power and privilege if she could not save one single girl?

And so she decided to take matters into her own hands.

Bernadetta did not emerge from her room, and so Edelgard schemed. The reputation of both fear and trust she had cultivated allowed her relatively unfettered access to the administration department. In this way, with confidence and profuse gratitude, she arranged to personally escort Count Varley to the headmaster’s office upon his arrival.

He arrived in the evening. He had business to attend to, after all. His daughter was clearly not a priority. It was hard to imagine a man who looked more comically contemptible. Count Varley was every bit the picture of the kind of man Edelgard imagined him to be.

“Good evening, Mr. Varley.” she said, suppressing her urge to scream. “I trust you had a pleasant trip?”

“They’ve sent the princess to meet me, then? Are the staff here completely incapable of doing anything themselves?”

Edelgard remained unflappable. For this to work, she had to maintain the impression of a child who didn’t know any better. “If it would please you, I will show you to the headmaster’s office.”

“Well, _someone_ needs to. Go on, then.”

Without further conversation - who could possibly stand to speak to this man? - Edelgard lead a half-step ahead of the Count. She was counting on the likelihood that Varley had cared so little about his daughter that he was a total stranger to the school’s layout. They proceeded in silence, save for the odd remark from the Count about the state of the school.

It was when Edelgard led him not to the administration wing, but into a maintenance corridor, that he realised that she was not taking him to see the headmaster.

“What are you _playing at_ , Hresvelg?” he demanded as Edelgard rounded on him. The thin corridor was a mess of pipes, valves, fuse boxes and tool cupboards. It was the one place Edelgard had calculated she could lure him without any staff intervention.

“Mr. Varley,” she began, “I am sorry for the deception. I needed to speak to you privately, and this was the most definite way to secure your audience. I must speak to you about your daughter.

“This is about that _fucking_ \- enough, Hresvelg. I don’t care if you’re the damn princess, I will not be treated-”

“Mr. Varley! I am imploring you to leave her in my care! I can help her in ways the faculty can not! We are making so much progress, I just need time!”

The Count’s voice rose so loud that Edelgard feared it would carry through the dense fire doors. “I don’t care about her fucking _grades_ , Hresvelg! She is an embarrassment to my family, and it was a mistake to allow her this independence. I am here to make sure she behaves.”

Edelgard’s blood was running cold, and her heart was burning hot. She was desperate. “Mr. Varley, I will provide any boon that is within my considerable reach, in exchange for leaving your daughter in my care. You need but name your price and you shall have it.”

That got his attention. He sniffed, a disgusting sound. “Why, Hresvelg? What has she got on you? Why would you debase yourself for that fucking runt?”

Everything focussed into terrible clarity. “I can protect her.”

“Protect her?! From _who?_ ”

“ _From you!_ ”

Her last outburst was her outdoing. She had been too honest, too emotional. And she had failed. The Count turned on his heel to leave. “Enough of this fucking nonsense-”

She moved with the speed of desperation. Her limbs followed a very basic instinct of _I cannot let this happen_. She rounded the Count, placing herself between him and the door, arms spread wide. “I will not let you!”

He roared in a mix of frustration and derision, reaching out towards her with hands practiced in harm. “ _Get out of my way-_!”

He had never hurt anyone who could fight back before. And Edelgard had once sworn she would never let anyone lay a hand on her again. Instinct was all that drove her. His cumbersome movements were easy to counter. The second his hand found her collar, it was cast aside, his elbow inverting with a sickening crunch. A fist to his solar plexus winded him. Another fist to his chin sent him staggering back.

His head made a wet noise as it cracked against the pipes behind him. He jerked, twitched, fell to the ground. Blood stained the pipes. He did not move.

Edelgard had no time to panic. This wasn’t how it was supposed to have happened, but it had happened. She needed to act quickly. The maintenance corridors were like a labyrinth, she could hide him long enough to get outside, call Hubert, fix this-

As she grabbed Count Varley by his limp arm and began to pull, she looked up. Before her stood Bernadetta von Varley, eyes fixed upon her, wild with horror. No. When had she got there? What was she doing here?

Edelgard had just killed Bernadetta’s father. Bernadetta had seen her do it. The moment stretched into hideous infinity.


	7. Chapter 7

It was hardly the first time a member of the royal family had accidentally killed someone. In a country with nothing but client journalism, it was very easy, with the right incentives, to make sure such a crime never came to light. It helped that Count Varley was far from popular. Moreso, it helped that he had a huge backlog of financial misdeeds that would be devastating for any family members who intended to press charges.

And that was it. Edelgard killed a man, and suffered no consequence. Legally. There were other problems. While royal misconduct was expected, Edelgard received a large number of very stern lectures about fidelity to the institution that spawned her, and that her privileges would be severely truncated until she could be trusted to behave.

The other, more important consequence was that Bernadetta stopped talking to her completely. Which was understandable. Edelgard did not expect Bernadetta to forgive her for such a crime. She felt no remorse for removing such a plague from Bernadetta’s life, but to do it without Bernadetta’s consent felt like a betrayal.

As it transpired, Bernadetta had spotted Edelgard walking with Count Varley on that night as she made her own way to the headmaster’s office. She had followed on their heels at a generous distance, unable to face either one of them, never mind both of them together. At first it had been fear and shame, but when she noticed they were taking the wrong route, confusion had guided her steps.

Bernadetta was very good at shrinking into the background, at being soundless, formless. She had heard the shouting from outside the fire doors. She’d just found the courage to run in and defend herself, to join Edelgard’s chorus with her own, when the incident had happened.

Bernadetta was still at school. She had no immediate relatives to take care of her. Edelgard had made it clear to her mother and father, the queen and the prince, that whatever punishment Edelgard received, she still demanded that Bernadetta find her way into the care of someone who would protect her. It was agreed that giving Bernadetta few reasons to speak out against Edelgard would be in the royal family’s best interests, and so she had simply not been assigned carers. She was, for better or worse, the head of her family, and completely free.

If she hated Edelgard, then it was a small price to pay.

They did not speak again until the last day of the school year, months later. Edelgard had kept a respectful distance, intending to give Bernadetta full control of whether they would ever be friends again. But nought had happened, and the fear of leaving Bernadetta alone in the world over the summer holidays forced her to selfish action.

Edelgard knocked politely on Bernadetta’s dorm room door. She was nervous, so nervous, and totally oblivious to the bustle of motion around her as the dorm occupants packed their belongings.

It was a painful wait, but Edelgard was patient. She would not knock a second time. Bernadetta knew she was there, and if she wanted to let her in, then she would. And Edelgard would give her as much time as she needed.

It was a good twenty minutes of standing perfectly still before the door creaked open and tired eyes rose to meet her.

“Bernadetta. I’m sorry for imposing upon you, but may I come in?”

There was a small, soundless nod, and the door creaked open to admit her. Edelgard took an uncharacteristically tentative step over the threshold, and waited to be given permission to speak.

After another long awkward silence, Bernadetta eventually managed an “I’m sorry”. Edelgard’s heart ached.

“No, Bern, no, please. I’m- I’m so sorry, I-”

“You wouldn’t have had to- If not for me-”

“But I chose to, and I didn’t tell you, and I-”

“I wasn’t worth it.”

Edelgard stamped her foot in defiance. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Shit.

Bernie stared at her with an expression Edelgard couldn’t begin to parse. What must she see, when she looked at Edelgard? A killer? Did she hate Edelgard for what she had done? Surely she must.

Edelgard struggled for words. “I just… I am a monster, yes. But you are not. You are worth protecting. No, that’s not… you don’t _need_ to be worth protecting. You _should_ be protected. You should be safe, and you should be happy. You deserve better than him, and better than me. Better than all of us.”

Bernadetta’s eyes sunk to the ground, her greasy mop curtaining her face from Edelgard’s sight. “I don’t know what to think. You’re the only person who’s helped me. But you killed somebody. But you did it to help me. But you said you’d do it again. How many people are you going to kill for me, Edelgard?”

“I’m not… That was a mistake. I do not want to kill people, Bernadetta. I just want you to be happy. If I’d been better, if I’d been faster, if I’d been smarter, I’d have taken you far away from here. Far away from everyone who’s hurt you.”

Bernadetta looked up at her once again. Their eyes met for a long time. Edelgard wondered how much pain must lie in those silver irises. But they didn’t look pained now. Bernadetta looked a lot like someone who had been reset. Like she had been turned off and on again.

“I’d have liked that, I think.”

Edelgard spoke without thinking. “I still can. If you’d like.”

Bernadetta blinked. She squeaked out a barely audible “what?”.

“If I am abhorrent to you, then disregard everything I am about to say. But if you still hold any fondness for me at all, come with me this summer. We will go a long way away. Anywhere you’d like. You don’t need to be with me, but I’ll take you. And then I will go away, if you’d like.”

Bernadetta was crying, silently, gently. Too much had happened. Nobody could endure so much happening so quickly. And now Edelgard was offering to run away with her, surely this was too far-

“Okay.”

Had Edelgard heard that correctly? “Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s go. Somewhere. Anywhere.”

Edelgard approached Bernadetta slowly. With all the care she could muster, she sank to one knee in front of the ragged mess of a girl standing in front of her, and knew then and there that she would throw away her crown and title in a heartbeat if Bernadetta asked it of her.

She offered her hand up to Bernadetta. “Then I am at your disposal.”

Bernadetta took her hand and tugged on it. “Not like that. I’m not… Stand up, please. Let’s just… Let’s just both stand up.”

And so they both stood. When they both left the school gates, their hands were still entwined.

**Author's Note:**

> This was intense to write. 
> 
> I am so glad to have had this opportunity to collaborate with Mado, who has always been an inspiration of mine. Their artwork is truly astounding, and their writing matches. Please follow them at https://twitter.com/madocactus and https://archiveofourown.org/users/madocallie/
> 
> A HUGE fuckin thank you to Oricalle, who once again has proofread my work without complaint. They are a fucking star. Please check out their work at https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oricalle/
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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